Online catfish. Online predator. He catfished me under many names, accounts, numbers, etc until I finally confronted him and attempted to report him. My karma is I shouldn’t have been there. His karma is exposure. I’ve managed to spread my

Hello, my names Jessica and I’m an addict. I’m 19 years old and struggling with PTSD and bipolar disorder, as well as the urge not to use any drugs. Me, 7 months ago: There isn’t a certain drug I’d consider

You have to connect to the ground, and open your heart, to create space, and stand in integrity, to speak your truth. This is a story about healing….my ongoing journey to heal from what was an unspeakable trauma. My hope

I tried collecting myself to text a friend to let them know where I was and what had happened, but I couldn't focus or coordinate myself. I have no idea how long I was in the washroom for. It couldn't have been for long, but what I can remember about that part of the night is that two people escorted me out the club through the back door away from my friends.

You have made me feel like nobody likes me. Like I am worthless, like everyone who knows what happened suddenly wants nothing to do with me. While this may not be true, you have turned me into someone who cant appreciate kindness. If someone is nice, I feel like its out of pitty, and when someone isn’t, I feel like they are judging me for what happened.

For the longest time I had a regret and blamed myself. I didn't realize until now that I couldn't have done anything differently besides for being more careful of what I drank. I realized it wasn't my fault.

I sat down and he walked over to the television and put on a porn video and asked if I was ok with it and I said yes so he left me there while he went to fix us a drink.as I sat there watching his TV he came in and sat next to me and handed me a glass of gin which I soon gulped down then he started talking about sex and by this time I was real drunk and that's when it all changed as he pinned me down on the sofa and started kissing me

I remember sitting in the shower, and not being able to cry, I was so in shock over what had happened. It didn’t even occur to me right away what that was. I just wanted to keep showering. I wanted the water to be hot enough that it would wash my skin off, so I could be someone else. I envisioned my skin washing off like paint and running down the drain, I wanted to be someone else. Someone who could never ever be in that position. I wanted to be someone who could remember what happened.

September 1997 “Man, she’s through!” “I can’t get my d*ck in her for sh*t!” “We doing this jungle style!” “I don’t need my d*ck sucked tonight.” “Hold her leg!” Dialogue of the rapists – I was extremely intoxicated with some

I had to go work that morning, and I left feeling numb. I couldn’t even think. How was I supposed to think? That whole day was filled with shock and sickness. The day after that I realized what happened, I was drugged and raped by someone I thought I could trust.

The emotions I felt were so great I had no idea how to digest them. I had just been raped but I don’t remember any of it. What the fuck !?!? My sister was about an hour and a bit away on the train, my friends were scattered across London and my mum and dad were living in Spain. For the first time in my adult life I felt well and truly alone.

I woke up naked, confused, and with a blaring headache. Next to me is this guy, naked as well. I check my phone, it's 5 a.m. I get up and leave. I call a friend, because I'm alone and scared. He said, "you know how you get when you drink. I doubt it was for

I still find it hard to not think it was my fault, to not think I was leading him on, to not think I was stupid to be there alone and perhaps I was but a normal person would not have date raped me…..they may have taken advantage in a "normal" fashion but I would have been coherent and able to fight it off, call for help, run away…whatever.

Having a “friend” turn into an aggressive monster forcing you to do incredibly intimate things while you beg him not to is terrifying. When I woke up, I noticed the clothes I had been wearing were on the floor and I burst into tears because I knew that I didn’t wake up from a nightmare I could forget, instead I woke up to a horrible reality.

I'm less afraid of talking about these ones than the first one. I have no idea what became of either of those guys, and I don't care. I've lost touch with all of the "friends" we had in common back then, the ones who knew and didn't stop it, the boyfriend who gave permission for his friend to rape me…it's a part of my life I've put past me.

The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another. When you're ready to share your story, we will be here.